


Intersection Points

by Owlship



Category: Bumblebee (2018), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Robot/Human Relationships, Sexual Interfacing, Size Difference, bumblebee has a human kink tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 07:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18177470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlship/pseuds/Owlship
Summary: He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of the difference between Charlie's body and his. How small she is, how soft, her flesh warm and giving against his hard metal.





	Intersection Points

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://v8roadworrier.tumblr.com/post/183551396526/youkaiyume-lemon-alert-full-view-on-my), and inspired by some [fantastic smutty art](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/538901) by YoukaiYume!

He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of the difference between Charlie's body and his. How small she is, how soft, her flesh warm and giving against his hard metal.

Bumblebee trails a fingertip carefully down the front of her chest, looking at the contrast between his dull gray metal and her pink skin, the place her remaining items of clothes covers her with black fabric. She presses herself into his touch, breathing out of sync with her usual resting rhythm- faster, shallower.

"Bee," she says, rising up on the tips of her feet to grab for his head. He lets himself be pulled down to meet her, her mouth pressing against his face.

He can't kiss back like she can, but she doesn't seem to mind, her lips and tongue exploring the ridges and divots of his faceplate.

Bumblebee has to put effort into communicating with his radio when they're like this, revving up for a round of interfacing. He never misses his lost vocal synthesizer as much as he does when Charlie is in his arms, letting out quiet little organic sounds when he touches her.

"Want you," he says using a clip of her own voice from a previous encounter.

Charlie shivers a little, a curiously human reaction. "That's still weird," she says, but she doesn't look too perturbed by it. Her small fingers move past the main plates of his chest, brushing against mechanics not usually accessed, and his system lets out a rattling buzz.

He curls a hand over the curve of her hip, careful not to exert too much pressure. Bumblebee can't find the words, and so he simply uses his touch to direct her, more gentle than he is with anything else. He'd bruised her before he learned not to, a strange and horrible injury humans endure- bleeding of their fluids under their covering of skin, painful for days as they slowly heal. Charlie sometimes says she likes it when he leaves marks, but he won't bring himself to hurt her deliberately.

"How about this?" she says, squirming in his grasp until she's on her hands and knees, hair flowing down from her head as she turns to look up at him.

Bumblebee feels himself quiver all over, his radio dial swinging to let out a burst of static.

She smiles at him, and shimmies her hips, drawing attention to the round organic shapes there, still covered in a scrap of fabric. "Touch me?" she says.

He nods eagerly and reaches out a hand, easing the clothing off her without tearing the thin material. Charlie helps him, bending and stretching to get one of her legs through, and he's momentarily mesmerized by the play of muscles under her skin.

Then the scent of her hits him, so different from the heavy metallic scents of his own people. It's soft, warm, musky with pheromones. Bumblebee lets out one of the few noises he can still naturally make, a buzzing noise, and trails a finger up the soft flesh of her inner thighs.

She sighs and holds herself open for him, her port on display, bright fleshy pink and dripping with her lubrication.

He has to be so careful with her when he touches her here. She's incredibly soft, delicate, smaller than any bot he's ever encountered. It's a wonder she can fit his spike inside of her, but he's become used to being surprised by her.

"That's it," she says with a sigh of air as he rubs his fingertip through the lips around her port, finding the sensory bundle that can make her overload.

Charlie moans, her head swinging down from her shoulders, the line of her spine arched. He runs his other hand along her spine, feeling the places her calcium-based skeleton rises close to the surface, the deceptively hard underpinnings of her otherwise soft form.

" _I need your loving_ ," Bumblebee dials, " _I need your kissing, baby_."

"Yeah," she says in reply, "Bee, I need you in me."

He rattles all over, music breaking up into static. He takes his hand off her back to release his spike, throbbing with a lack of sensory input.

Their size difference can sometimes be a challenge- try as he might, in this position Bumblebee can't get their hips to line up, at least not without completely losing his ability to move against her.

Charlie looks back over her shoulder at him, and nods.

He curls a hand around her middle, carefully taking her weight off her knees until she's just enough higher that he can reach her.

"Love how strong you are," she says.

He nuzzles his face against the back of her head, her hair brushing softly against him.

Then Bumblebee guides his spike to the entrance of her port, and starts to push inside.

Charlie gasps and moans, squirming against his hold. Her hand flails out until it touches his, and she curls her fingers hard against his thumb.

He holds himself back and goes slowly, tortuously slow. she's so hot around him, slick with lubrication and _tight_ , almost painfully so. She _was_ too tight the first few times they tried this, nervous and inexperienced, but she refused to stop trying, training her body to accept larger and larger intrusions until finally, he was able to sheath himself in her.

When his hips pull flush to her rear Bumblebee goes still, straining against his instincts to just thrust without abandon. He's buzzing non-stop now, too keyed up to do anything to dampen the natural vibrations of his body.

"Fuck," Charlie says, her voice rough with strain. "Fuck, I always forget-"

He pulls up a voice clip from the growing database he's started keeping. "Okay?"

"Yeah," she says, and squeezes her fingers around his thumb. She breathes in a deliberate rhythm, deep inhales and exhales, and after a few cycles says, "Okay, you can move now."

Bumblebee can't do anything but obey, the urge to move inside of her almost overwhelming. He draws his hips back and rocks them forward again, bracing her body with his hand under her middle.

She shouts, and he stops.

"No, no," Charlie says, her voice a sob. "Keep going, Bee, please don't stop."

He begins moving again, still slowly, still with a fraction of his strength. She writhes under him, her port clenching and flexing, sensations he can feel right through to his Spark.

Soon the urge to speed up is almost unbearable, and he covers his optics, unable to handle looking down and seeing her under him.

"Bee," Charlie moans, "Faster, I can take it."

He would hesitate, but his control is far from perfect. Bumblebee speeds up his thrusts slightly, his exhaust system coming online with a dull roar as it vents air away from his heating core.

"That's it," she says, her voice changing in pitch the way it does when she's approaching overload. "Oh, Bee! So good"

He buzzes in answer, too far gone to try and find words to describe how she feels to him, how amazing it is to be so deep inside of her, her body welcoming his despite all their differences.

He almost feels like he can reach her Spark like this, the Spark in his own chest pulsing with energy at the thought.

Charlie shouts out, one leg kicking wildly, her hand clutching him tight as she overloads.

He keeps up his pace through it, knowing by now that's how she likes it. Bumblebee can feel his own overload approaching, his systems reaching critical levels of sensory input.

He curls up even further over her and buries his face against her hair, damp and humid with her sweat.

"That's it," she says, her voice hoarser than before.

His radio bursts out in a garbled mess of music and static, and Charlie laughs breathlessly.

"Come on," she says, "Let go. Wanna feel you come."

Bumblebee stops trying to hold back, sinking his awareness into the place they're joined, the friction of their bodies. His Spark pulses white-hot in his chest as his spike throbs, and when she moans out his name again, he overloads in a haze of white pleasure.


End file.
